


Mix Tape Montage

by ImaniJoain



Series: Unlikely Singularities [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Panic Attacks, rebuilding and moving on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaniJoain/pseuds/ImaniJoain
Summary: Before Darcy can help Tony defeat the Accords, she's going to need business cards. And possibly Xanax. Before Pepper can move forward in her relationship with Tony she's going to need a trusted professional. And someone to reign in Tony. Oh, and Thor has been putting off Ragnorok so he can look after Jane. Life with the Avengers isn't a montage, but it can come pretty close.  *Takes place 10/22/16 - 10/31-16





	1. Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

**Author's Note:**

> This wraps up some loose ends, and also deals with a few requests loyal readers have suggested. Special thanks to kattabaker for planting the seed for Rhodey and Tony's interaction, and to the many, many who wanted more Maria. Let me know if you have any other suggestions!

**October 22, 2016**

 

Evie stumbled mid-step when her shoelace snapped. “ _Podría arrojar agua al mar_ ,” she muttered, stomping off the running path to the nearest bench. It was stupid – she was stupid – thinking that a long run would help solve her problem. Her two year contract with _Root Solutions_ would be up this year, and opening negotiations for a new contract had begun poorly. The company wanted oversight of her genetic research and rights to assign her to other projects. Even a quick skimming of the first draft had convinced her she wasn’t interested in staying with _Root_. Any negotiations that began with a non-disclosure clause for _her own work_ was not going to lead anywhere she would be happy. Add that to the singularly persistent calls from one of the _Root_ partners requesting her to take part in a privately funded, suspiciously secretive branch of research and Evie was more than ready to jump ship.

While that might have put a crimp in her long-term plans, she was certain she could find new lab space. The question was how soon she could do so. The loss of income would hurt more; she had privileges at two hospitals in LA and had several regular patients to keep her license up and as part of her research but it wasn’t enough without a research contract. Things would be tight, she would probably have to dip into her savings to keep up on rent and her medical school loans, but it would be worth it to get away from the change in philosophy at _Root_.

That had been on Tuesday. On Thursday, she found out her computing time at Cori in Oakland had been preempted. The Institute was well within their rights to do so if a contributing partner or university needed the time, but Evie had been on a wait list for months. She needed that time to run new data on a particular gene sequence she was isolating. The administrators at Cori had been sympathetic, had even given her recommendations for a few other places that might make time for her on short notice.

Fourteen research centers and universities had all said no. Even the ones that had time or space – some that wouldn’t be able to schedule her until 2017 – suddenly became very busy after she left her contact information and research summary. If it wouldn’t be ridiculous, Evie would think she was being blacklisted.

Friday night she had gone off a shift at Los Robles to find a string of text messages and voicemails regarding her childhood home. The local sheriff’s office had caught some kids breaking in. She needed a new window and someone to clean up the mud that was tracked in and the beer spilled on the carpet. The deputy had suggested she get a renter to keep it from happening again. Another call from her grandmother had woken her up that morning and she let it go to voicemail – deciding an avoidance run would be better than calling back _Abuela_ and dealing with the problems that had piled up over the week.

And now her favorite running shoes had broken a lace. “Goddammit,” she swore under her breath, walking carefully so she didn’t lose the shoe altogether. Then she crossed herself – not out of devotion, but long-ingrained habit.

“Everything okay?”

Evie looked up to see a gorgeous redhead on the trail. Her running jacket and leggings were the sort that were designed by celebrities and cost more than Evie’s monthly student loans. Her body was slim and toned in a way that spoke not of superficial vanity, but a commitment to physical health. It made Evie supremely conscious of the sweat running down her back, frizzy halo around her tight braid, and the ragged shorts that she probably should have thrown out years ago.

“Oh, excuse me. I just -” she shook her head to clear out the jumble of thoughts. Then she started over with a cool, professional smile. “I’m fine, thank you. I just snapped a shoelace.”

The redhead smiled back. “That stinks. Need any help? I used to wear my shoes so thin I could feel a heavy dew clear through to my socks, so I’m pretty good at tying laces back together.” She took a seat on the bench next to Evie and held out her hand expectantly.

 _What the hell._ Evie toed off her shoe and handed it over. It wasn’t like the woman was going to steal the damn thing. Aside from the fact that she obviously could afford better, Evie could see that they weren’t near the same size.

“Thank you. I hate to interrupt such a committed runner, though. Were you just getting started?”

Not a single red hair was out of place. “Committed, you have no idea.” The woman grinned and shook her head. “Just finishing up, I think. I run more for stress relief than exercise. I know it’s cliché in California, but I’m more of a yoga and Pilates type.” Evie wasn’t sure she believed that. _If this woman doesn’t have a personal trainer than she has the most excellent genes I’ve ever seen_. “How about you?”

“Oh,” Evie had to pause to rewind the conversation. “No, this is definitely exercise. It was this or give up carbs, so...” The other woman laughed and Evie smiled, feeling a little bit of her tension fade away. “But today is some stress relief too. I shouldn’t curse about something so silly, but it’s been a long week.”

“Trust me when I say that I have heard far, far worse for significantly sillier reasons.” She had the shoe completely unlaced and was matching up the frayed edges of the string. “I’m Pepper, by the way.” That name rang a bell, and Evie briefly wondered if she was an actress or celebrity. It seemed that at least half the people she met during the two years she had lived in LA were ‘in the business’. But Evie would be the first to admit she hadn’t seen more than two movies since she graduated med school and her rotating shift schedule and tiny entertainment budget made even television a challenge.

“Evie,” she replied.

“Do you want to talk about it? There’s nothing like spilling your problems to a complete stranger to make you feel better. I once got so close to strangling my former boss I had a complete breakdown during a cut and style. I haven’t been able to show my face at that salon in _years_. But it was so therapeutic.”

Evie laughed again. It sounded like something she could see herself doing. Pushing everything down until it all just exploded out over some hapless hair stylist. “I do genetic research – mostly with computer models. It takes a pretty powerful computer, the kind you have to lease time to use, and I just found out that the place I was scheduled with canceled on me. Out of nowhere.”

Blue eyes met hers, and Evie was struck with a sudden sense of sharpness. For an instant, gone was the easy camaraderie of two runners and she felt like she was being examined. Then it was gone.

“Are there other places you can call?” The lace was knotted so finely Evie almost couldn’t see where it had fallen apart. Pepper began re-threading the shoe.

“Yeah. But apparently they are all booked up. Which is...ugh.” She rubbed a hand over her face, feeling the sweat drying to her skin and making her itchy. “Like I said, it’s been a long week and now I’m starting to feel a little persecuted. I’m sure I’ll get over it by Monday. The run hasn’t worked, but there is always cheesecake to see me through,” she joked.

“You know,” Pepper handed back the shoe and smiled tentatively, “I might know someone who can help - with a local research and development group. My understanding is that they always reserve some super computing space for interesting outside projects. It can’t hurt to check it out, right?” She pulled a slim wallet out of her jacket pocket and withdrew a blindingly white business card.

Evie took it with a blink. “Wow, okay. Thank you. For the shoe, and the help.” She grinned again, “And for listening to my breakdown too, I guess. You’ve saved a stylist out there somewhere. If you ever need a geneticist – well, I’d give you my card, but I don’t have any on me.”

“Hopefully we’ll see each other again.” Pepper stood and stretched out her back. “I should get going, but seriously, give him a call.” She pointed to the card and started off at a slow jog, back the way she had come. “I’m sure next week will be better, Evie!”

Evie waved, then stood up, testing out the repaired lace. She flipped the card over in her hand, reading the thick black font with a tingle of awareness.

 

**Carl Geoff**

**Executive Assistant to the CEO**

**Stark Industries, Los Angeles**

 

 

* _Podría arrojar agua al mar: Might as well throw water into the sea; i.e. this is pointless_

 

_Abuela: Grandma_


	2. Miss Jackson, I Presume?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You knew there was no way Tony was just going to let Pepper handle things, right?

**October 22, 2016**

Pepper slid into the back of the town car and pulled the door shut behind her. Maria was in the front seat with Happy – they each had a sickeningly sugary frosted doughnut in hand.

“You want one, Pep?” Maria held out the box. There was a powdered raspberry bismark that was calling to her.

“Definitely, I just need to make a call first. You go ahead and navigate with Happy. I’ll be done by the time we get to the spa.” Happy met Pepper’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and she saw his wince. Maria didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong, too involved with her next pastry choice. Happy put up the divider and Pepper pulled her phone from the Birkin bag on the seat next to her.

The line rang long enough that Pepper could feel her temper slipping. She finally hung up and dialed a new number.

“Ms. Potts,” Friday answered promptly. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Put me through to him, please.”

“Sir has requested a communications lock down for the foreseeable-”

“Friday.”

“One moment, Ms. Potts.”

A tone sounded, and then she could hear Rhodey in the background. His words were difficult to make out, muffled by something, but his tone was clear. He was irritated with Tony. _Get in line._

“Tony.”

There was a short silence. “Pep, my love, where are you? Don’t you have a thing, now? I’m sure you have a thing. Isn’t there one? I know I do. Have a thing. I could talk to you all day, of course. How are you? How’s your thing? Good. Good. Going good here too. Just me and Rhodey-”

Rhodey’s voice came through loudly, “Don’t bring me into this.”

Tony continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “-hanging out. Getting work done. Nothing, nothing serious. At all. You know, just-”

“Tony.” He stopped talking so quickly she swore she could hear his brain shorting out. “What did we agree?”

“That I wouldn’t go into space anymore without giving you a five minute warning?” He offered tentatively.

“About the specialist?”

“That I would see her twice a week – three times if I had more than one panic attack in a day?”

She could feel her skin tightening, warming with annoyance. “ _My_ specialist, Tony.”

“Oh. OH. Oh, yeah, that. Well you are doing all the initial meetings – of course. Of course. I’m just doing research. Background checks. Just the boring. Background. Stuff. And things. With computers. That I do. Which I did do for Lewis. Did I tell you, Pep? Lewis is back from DC this weekend and I’m going to show her the new offices. Do you think I should get her something? Like a plant, or a decanter? Maybe a vase, vah-zzzz? Which is it? I’m never sure. What do people give for new offices? I mean, I got you that lace set from-”

“Tony. Did you cancel research time for Dr. Vivas?”

“Cancel is a strong word. Preempt. Supplant. Or buy-out? No, preempt is better. I just had some equations that I really needed crunched and-”

“Stark Industries has computers for your use, Tony and-” Pepper bit off her own reply. No matter how many years she was with him, he could still sidetrack her if he put his mind to it. She breathed slowly before speaking again. “Tony, I am going to say this just once. It is my uterus.” Rhodey made a choked sound but Pepper plowed on. “We are not going to bribe, blackmail, or coerce anyone into working with us. I will pick someone that I feel comfortable with, and then we will move forward together. If you contact Dr. Vivas again – through any means – before I explicitly give you permission, we will have words. You and I. Words.”

“Okay. I hear that you are upset, and I understand what behavior you are looking for.”

Pepper had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, her irritation ebbing away. She was immensely grateful that Tony was finally taking his therapy seriously. But sometimes he was such a smartass about it. “SI will be providing her with any computing time she has lost – free of charge.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Regardless of her agreement to work with us.”

There was a sigh. “Yes, dear.”

“And get Darcy a plant. Nothing too excessive.”

“Aw, Pep, were would the fun be in that?”


	3. Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is thanks to kattabaker for reminding me how awesome good friends are. They're with you even when you're being an ass.

**October 22, 2017**

 

“I realize this is probably a stupid question,” Rhodey began, and Tony smirked under his welding goggles, “but have you considered that maybe this isn’t a good idea?”

“It’s not a good idea. It’s a great idea.” Tony hit the switch on his torch and leaned closer to the exoskeleton over Rhodey’s ribs.

“A great idea like filling the dean’s office at MIT with opened condoms, or a great idea like promoting your personal assistant to CEO?”

Tony had to raise his voice to be heard over the welding equipment. “Is there a difference?”

“Yes, Tony. Yes, there is a definitive difference. Anyone can see that. You should be able to see that. This isn’t- ouch!”

Tony snapped off the torch. “Don’t be a baby. I barely singed you. Look,” he pushed up his goggles and examined Rhodey’s ribs. His t-shirt had a hole burned through it, and his skin was – perhaps – a _tiny_ bit red. He might need some aloe. Tony was pretty sure he had aloe. Friday kept his first aid kit stocked overly well. Ridiculously well. It was asinine, how well he was first aid-edly stocked. It was like his AI expected him to get hurt. Which was equally asinine. Workshop injuries were down two hundred percent this quarter. Only seventy days to go and it would be his best reported period ever. _Hah. Take that, Friday._

“Tony this is one of those times that you need to listen to me.”

“Unlikely,” Tony said absently. He dropped his torch on the nearest table and pushed off the floor, rolling his stool over to the nearest cabinet. He was pretty sure the first aid kit was in there. Somewhere.

“For the love of – Tony. You are going to regret this. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, about this plan that isn’t going to come around and bite you in the ass. I will stand by you through anything, man, but-”

“I know.” Tony let his hands drop to his lap, aloe forgotten. Of course he knew. He always knew. And Rhodey knew he knew. He knew Rhodey knew he knew. _Fuck_. This was...Rhodey was...goddammit they were friends. More than friends. Tony had never been demonstrative, always preferring to buy his way out of discussing emotions, but Rhodey had to know. Tony trusted him with his life. More than that. Tony trusted him with _Pepper’s_ life. God, if Rhodey didn’t know – if Tony had to say – he hated to say. But his therapist said he should and Pepper said he should listen to his therapist and Rhodey had been telling him since _the turn of the century_ that he should listen to Pepper in _everything_ and this was fucking important and-

“Tony.” Rhodey couldn’t sit up very well, seeing how he was still wearing part of the new War Machine suit and it wasn’t powered up, but his eyes locked on Tony’s. “You cannot bribe this doctor.”

“What if it’s already done? Theoretically.”

“Theoretically, like you went ahead with your plan even though you told Pepper you would stay out of it, or theoretically like you could maybe still stop things with a phone call?”

“More of that first one? Except I didn’t have to buy her contract. Her company is already renegotiating, and a little birdy told me she is not happy with the terms. So I don’t have to-”

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Tony wheeled over to another table and picked up a wrench, then set it down to play with a few transistors. He had been thinking that Dr. Evelyn Vivas was on his short list – despite having done her undergrad at a state school. In _Nebraska_. Where the fuck was Nebraska, even? He knew it was one of the middle ones, but seriously, people lived there? Unreal. At least it wasn’t Brown. _Bletch_. He had been thinking that Dr. Evelyn Vivas was Pepper’s first choice. He had been thinking that the probability that he and Pepper could have a child, even without bringing Extremis into the equation, was low. So low he had forced himself not to memorize the figure after he ran it. He was thinking that he had screwed up so many things in his life, he had screwed up so many things with Pepper, and he _loved_ her. LOVED her. He loved her and he wanted to give her whatever she wanted. He would move the _Earth_ if that is what it would take to make Pepper happy. Rewrite the laws of science. He would apologize to Stars and Stripes and retire from Iron Man and hire Lewis and commit his fortune (some of it, okay, a lot of it) to charity and see a therapist and stop drinking and fucking _meditate_. Anything for Pepper. She wanted to be a parent. With him. He had to make it happen.

“I can’t let her leave me.”

Rhodey did not hesitate. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say. And I saw you try to seduce a sixty year old _lesbian_ math professor when you were fifteen. Hell, I was _right_ there last week when you asked Laura Barton if you could put her baby in an anti-gravity force field.”

“That was for science!” Tony was appalled that Rhodey had forgotten such a pertinent detail. The thing with the professor, obviously. And the experiment had been a resounding success. Unmitigated. Groundbreaking. The thing with Mrs. B was for funsies. That was less of a success. She had hit him. In the stomach. With her pitching arm. He still thought his left kidney wasn’t operating at peak efficiency.

“Tony. Do you remember when my dad died?”

Of course he remembered. Rhodey had been devastated. It was shocking to Tony, to go with Rhodey to his family home and see how the man wept – publicly wept - over the death of his genetic donor. People had offered condolences – and meant them. Not just one or two people, and not just people who worked for him and were sad for the loss of a paycheck, everyone. An entire town. A small town sure. Like, fifty thousand, max. But Rhodey had loved his dad and his mom had comforted him and he had cousins and aunts and sisters and nephews and fucking _church-goers_ who shook hands and hugged and cried it out with him and who missed Mr. Rhodes. And Tony had offered to rent out the local Marriott – because that was high-class in that town, a goddamn Marriott – but Rhodey wanted to stay at home. So Tony had stayed there too on a trundle bed. Because that was a thing – who knew that it wasn’t just in weird movies about girls’ sleepovers but that trundle beds were a thing? – and it was so small even _his_ legs were pushing the bottom edge. Nine million of Rhodey’s relatives came in from out of town and filled the hotel (so his money didn’t totally go to waste) but he had stayed in the trundle bed and listened to Rhodey cry in the middle of the night and attended the funeral the next day and didn’t make a single goddamn joke because it was _Rhodey_. People _touched_ Tony. They shook his fucking hand. People he _didn’t even know_ touched him. He ate casseroles and shook hands and held someone’s sleepy baby. Him. A baby. But what he remembered most was how empty Rhodey had looked when the casket was lowered. It was like a piece of his friend was going into the ground too.

The family didn’t want flowers. They set up an account for a collage scholarship. Tony donated ten million. He should have done more.

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Do you remember I said that I could never be the man he was? And you said that was stupid, because of course I couldn’t. I was already fucking awesome and he had to have known that if he was half the man everyone was saying? You said you wished you could have met him, because he had to have been amazing to have raised me.”

“Yeah.” It barely came out as a whisper. It wasn’t that Tony was embarrassed, exactly. He had said that, and it was true. Rhodey was a good person. A good man. The best friend anyone could ever ask for – and Tony could ask for a lot. He had. Frequently. Damn near daily. It was more that he felt hurt for his friend. Almost more than he had felt for himself when Howard was killed. Rhodey had lost someone he loved. Someone who loved him, was proud of him. Tony could never let his friend forget that gift – that fucking blessing – to have known you were loved and respected and that you returned those feelings. It was fucking sappy.

“Okay. So I say this with the same sincerity. You are awesome. A huge fucking pain in the ass, self-centered, short-”

“Hey!”

“-average-sized, tactless _aging_ genius. Even if you fuck this up, Pepper is not going to leave you.” Rhodey eased back down on to the chair and waited a few beats. “That said. You are really kind of fucking this up, asshole.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Please. Stop. Your effusive praise is embarrassing both of us. I’m blushing.” Rhodey asked Friday for the scores on a few basketball games and Tony handed him some aloe while he reviewed the plans for the suit. Several pleasant minutes passed in argument over the best defensive players in the nineties NBA before Tony spoke again.

“So...dropping her name around town – hypothetically - and having an office set up for Vivas on the twelfth floor with a patient waiting list and pre-vetted paid staff would be overstepping?” His phone was vibrating, but Tony ignored it. Friday knew that he was incommunicado – especially for Pepper – until he said otherwise. There was nothing so important it couldn’t wait until after Rhodey’s exoskeleton was squared away and they had determined the ideal dream team – living or dead players.

“Tony,” Rhodey groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm.

“What about a gift basket? I was thinking a personalized gold plated scalpel set, hypo-allergenic latex gloves and custom blended smelling salts.”

“For anything else I would have your back Tony, but when Pepper asks, I am throwing you under the bus.”

“That’s fair.”


	4. Build God, Then We'll Talk

**October 24, 2016**

 

Darcy stared around the empty suite of offices. Tony was bouncing on the balls of his feet, one hand in his pants pocket and the other tapping against his shirt in a rhythm that might have been Jon Bonham’s drum solo from _Moby Dick_. It might have also been binary instructions to Friday to upgrade the Tower to _Moving_ _Castle_ status. It was hard to tell with Tony.

“Like an onion,” Darcy muttered to herself.

“What’s that, Lewis?”

“This seems kind of big for just me,” she deflected. And it was too large for one person. Tony had taken her to a recently vacated section on the seventy-sixth floor. The frosted glass doors between the elevator lobby and the vestibule declared it to be Ranus Insurance Investigations, although the building directory information stated that company had moved out almost four months previous. She shared the floor with a psychiatry practice, a real estate agency for the Tower and some of Tony’s other lease properties, another empty space, and a blocked off area that took up half of seventy-six and was labeled as ‘unfinished’.

“Eh, you can outsource to SI for now, but eventually you’ll want staff. Especially if you and Pep are serious about this whole non-profit...thing.”

“SI needs the legal distance and the Avengers need the independence, Tony,” Darcy murmured, but she wasn’t really paying any attention. They’d already had the argument about how a new, fully independent Avengers should be structured, and to her surprise, Darcy’s suggestion of a stand-alone foundation had met with Pepper’s immediate support. Apparently Stark Industries had its hands full and then some dealing with not just the legality of superheros, but the requests for aid from countries and individuals as well as cleanup efforts after the superhero-ing was over. Pepper did, as she so eloquently pointed out, have a business to run.

The reception area was shared with the empty offices next door, and it lead into an open space that was presumably intended for cubicles. It was all in a narrow rectangle, with the longer wall arranged into small private offices and a break room, and strategically frosted glass walls to let outside light into the center of the space. The corner conference room had an expensive view of Manhattan. Along the short outside wall were two other doors. Tony headed that way.

“Uh-huh, Lewis. So Pepper has decreed, so shall it be. I already have someone, someones? Scheduled to paint and re-carpet and whatever – Friday can talk to you about the details. She’s minimal here - passive monitoring and interaction on this floor - but we can beef up your office if you want. Until then, you can use your StarkPad to communicate with her on secure files and anything else you need. What do you need? Like, staples? Is that a thing that people in offices have? I’m sure they do. And paperclips...or something. We could get you those.” He pulled out his phone and punched a few buttons. “Friday? Order paperclips. Something that says, ‘we’ve arrived, and we won’t take your shit Congress’.”

“Gold plated paperclips, added to the inventory request, Boss.”

“No, Friday,” Darcy exclaimed. “Definitely not. Regular paperclips are fine.”

“And a bar cart,” Tony continued as if no one else had spoken. He had reached the glass doors to the two larger offices and he poked his head into one, his voice echoing weirdly. “Every office needs a bar cart. Or maybe just a bar. Friday, schedule installation of a bar. Full complement. Ooo – and an espresso machine. And snack dispenser. But not the kind with sandwiches. Gross. Something good. You know what I like.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“No, Boss,” Darcy insisted. She was still trying to wrap her head around the size of the place, but Tony had begun kicking lightly at a reception desk. The whole thing was fronted with stainless steel and built to provide privacy and clearance for the two large offices. It might have also been bulletproof. Actually, once she thought about it, if she had to work in the same building as Tony Stark she might need an espresso machine. And a bulletproof desk. “Er, Friday. Yes to the coffee. No to everything else.”

“No. No! This is unacceptable.”

Darcy whirled around, but in the five seconds it had taken her to decide she needed coffee, Tony had disappeared. A shadow moved across the last door along the wall and she followed it.

“Absolutely not. This is ridiculous. Too small. Friday, why is this so small? Do people actually work in this environment? Can a desk possibly fit in here? And where would you even put a treadmill? Or a bar cart? Or a holographic projection table? The sofa? No, it won’t do. Friday – let’s work up some plans to blow out this wall. We can push out to the edge of the balcony and-” Whatever else he said was reduced to Charlie Brown’s parents for Darcy as she pulled open the door. The office itself was slightly larger than average, she supposed. Bigger than what any of her professors had but about half the size of Pepper’s office in LA. There was a narrow, partially open door through which she could see a modest private bathroom, _score_ , but that wasn’t what had her mouth hanging open.

The far wall was entirely glass, floor to ceiling, with a door set to one side. It opened onto the largest balcony Darcy had ever seen. Avengers Tower tapered toward the top and had several asymmetrical tiers, like a modern wedding cake, but Darcy had never really thought about how that translated into office space. A clear railing and panels ran in a broad arch, thirty feet at its widest and ten feet where it came closer to the building. The outdoor area was littered with artful planters of greenery, benches, tables, a few sculptures, and the most amazing panorama of Manhattan. Darcy had to put her hand out against the wall to steady herself.

She was really doing this. She was going to be the Executive Director of a multi-million dollar non-profit foundation. She would answer to a Board of Directors made up of some of the most powerful and intelligent individuals in the world. Pepper Potts. Shahid Khan, the Pakistani civil rights activist and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. Hank Pym. Yeo Fei, CEO of Heyi Corp and, according to Natasha, descended from a powerful and ancient order of metahumans. King T’Challa of Wakanda.

She, Darcy Lewis, was going to mediate what could easily become the single most important international treaty of the twenty-first century.

On paper, at least, Tony Stark – Iron Man – and the other Avengers would be responsible to _her_. _Oh god, I’m responsible for Tony if-one-pool-of-champagne-is-good-two-is-better, sure-let-me-fly-that-bomb-into-space, robot-overlord-what-robot-overlord Stark._

Another wave of dizziness washed over her. _This might be a mistake._ Darcy was the sarcastic one. The girl who wrote an article for her high school newspaper about removing ‘under God’ from the pledge. The college student who took three minors and nearly failed out of goddamn _bowling_ because she missed the midterm to protest LGBT discrimination in Civil Service interviews. And also missed the final for a _Black Keys_ concert. And also because she hated bowling. She was the purveyor of illegal IDs and minor transcript alterations. Darcy was the _intern_. The unpaid hanger-on and coffee fetcher. She was the grant writer and paperwork queen. She was a lighthearted drink when things got too serious and a punch to the nuts when things got too gropey. She was a kickass friend, an amazing barista, and a champion Big Sister. She was not a mediator of superheroes.

Suddenly Tony’s face was inches away from hers. He did not touch her, but he was close enough she could see the flecks of green in his brown eyes and smell his aftershave. Musky. Smokey. _Eau de Smaug._ It was nice in a thousand-dollars-an-ounce kind of way.

“Breathe. In. Out. That’s all it is. One breath. Another.” He breathed with her, for once not making jokes, just watching her carefully. She supposed if there was anyone who had experience dealing with overwhelming panic, it would be Tony Stark.

“Okay,” she finally managed once her pulse was near normal and her stomach had settled. She felt a little ridiculous. It was her idea, after all. To bust the Accords. To reform the Avengers under new management and an actual _plan_. With novel honesty. To prepare to save the world. It was a lot of responsibility. But she could do this. She was Darcy _fucking_ Lewis for Thor’s sake. She had tased a god and fought dark elves and flirted with Captain America. She had done honest to Jane science and rocked it. She was a bad ass mofo and this shit was her fucking _jam_.

“Tony,” she said, still looking into his eyes. “This is starting to feel like combination staring contest and May-December rom com. Could you back it up?”

“Ew.” Tony shuddered, but didn’t move right away. “Don’t say that Lewis. This is a May-August, May-September rom com at the most. I’m in my _prime_.”

Darcy could only quote him.

“Ew.”


	5. These Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to American readers! This chapter is a little bit of family to start off the long weekend. Enjoy! And please let me know what you think.

**October 27, 2016**

 

Pepper sat straight up in bed, heart racing, staring at the involuntary radiance of her body under a thin sheet and wondering what had woken her. The glow from the City bounced off the ocean, casting a dim greenish light through the wall of windows in the master bedroom. For a moment, she gripped the tablet she had been reading before she fell asleep and wondered if Tony was in trouble.

“Ms. Potts,” Friday’s voice was soft and without the tension she associated with Tony having blown up another City. Or himself. “I am sorry to disturb you, but Miss Aguilar is in mild distress. Her breathing is above normal resting rate and her expression is...I believe she may be suffering a nightmare.”

Pepper was halfway out the door before Friday had finished. Taking care of Maria over the past two weeks had quickly ranked in the top three most rewarding and frustrating things Pepper had ever done, alongside working for Tony and loving Tony. The girl was tough; she had been passed around from relatives and foster families for as long as she could remember, but she still had a sense of humor and a passion for things she enjoyed. That wasn’t to say that everything had been easy. They had gotten into a horrible argument her second day at the house when Friday alerted Pepper that Maria had stashed peanut butter and crackers under her bed. Things had escalated quickly and Pepper had been near tears – Maria packing her one bag and threatening to run away – when Friday called Darcy.

It turned out that many foster children hoarded food. Maria had been particularly worried when she realized there was very little in the Malibu house aside from fancy cheese, olives, and plain yogurt. Pepper had planned to sit down with the girl and order groceries, but she hadn’t told Maria that and the girl assumed she would be on her own for meals. Once the misunderstanding was resolved, a massive food order delivered, and Maria in bed with a stomach full of free-range chicken breasts and processed macaroni and cheese (a compromise) Pepper had done in-depth research. She learned not to touch Maria’s worn backpack and small, sorry-looking suitcase, and for the new clothes she ordered the girl she also purchased a second bag – with Maria’s name stitched on it so that she would know she could take it with her. Pepper rode with Maria every morning to her school even though it was forty minutes out of her way, where Happy dropped her off with the oldest car in the SI pool so no one would think Maria had anything worth bothering her over. Pepper also set up a non-negotiable routine that had her staff speechless.

Happy picked up Maria after school and she usually ate a snack with him on the way home. Once there, she had to start her homework. Friday would verify that it was finished before any media would play in the house. Pepper left the office promptly at four-thirty to beat traffic and arrived home by five-thirty – meaning Maria was only on her own for an hour and a half. And Friday was always available in case of emergencies. They made dinner together. Despite her lifestyle as the CEO of an international company and Tony Stark’s girlfriend, Pepper had grown up with family meals and she knew how to make spaghetti like anyone else. After dinner Maria would load the dishwasher and then was allowed to watch tv or use any of the gaming consoles – but she had quickly established a preference for tinkering in Tony’s workshop. Friday had the more dangerous half-finished projects locked down and Darcy vouched that Maria knew what she was doing, so Pepper worked until it was time for Maria to get ready for bed. Then after bedtime it was more work for Pepper until she fell asleep and things started all over again.

She had never been so exhausted in her life. And she had been the subject of illegal human experimentation.

Pepper’s fatigue was completely forgotten as she raced to the other side of the house and into Maria’s room. Friday brought the lights up to thirty percent and Pepper could see what had the AI so concerned. Maria was curled into a ball at the very edge of her bed, whimpering. Sweat made her dark curls stick to her forehead and neck, and the t-shirt she slept in was twisted around her torso and damp.

“Maria,” she called softly. When the girl didn’t stir Pepper knelt by the bed and pressed her palms gently against her shoulders. “Maria, sweetie, it’s okay. It’s just a dream.” Her arms were cold and clammy. Without thinking Pepper sent a little heat into her fingers and rubbed them slowly across Maria’s skin. “Wake up, Maria. You’re okay.”

Maria tensed, freezing in place. Her breath evened out into an obviously forced pattern and her eyes remained closed. Pepper wasn’t sure what to do. “Maria? Honey...it’s Pepper. You were having a bad dream. Are you okay now?” Her muscles relaxed just as suddenly as they had tensed and she opened her eyes slowly.

“Pepper?”

“Hey there.” Pepper smiled, trying to think of something else to say. Maria was ten – too old to want to cuddle even if life hadn’t hardened her against showing that kind of weakness, but she was shaking a little. Pepper also worried about the instinct to pretend she was still asleep. She didn’t know what experiences would make a little girl afraid to acknowledge when someone woke her, and Pepper wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Maria’s eyes were dark and wide, her face a little gray and shiny with sweat. Tears collected at her lashes and that was when Pepper got truly concerned. Chin trembling a little, she whispered, “I think I wet the bed.”

Pepper blinked. That was not what she had been expecting. And yet, she had an unfortunate amount of experience with people who ruined their bedding. Although it was usually vomit. “Well...I think I can find some clean sheets if you want to rinse off in the shower. Do you want help getting untangled?” Maria nodded, her head down as if she was embarrassed after admitting to the accident. Pepper asked Friday to warm up the water while she unwound the sheet and blanket. Maria practically ran for the bathroom, so Pepper collected one of the new pajama sets from the dresser and set them just inside on the tile floor. In less than twenty minutes Maria was back in bed, warm and dry, and Pepper hesitated to leave. The girl looked nervous, whether from the dream or worry she would be punished for the sheets, Pepper couldn’t tell.

“You know...” she began, and then hesitated, hoping she was going forward the right way. “You know, this house was destroyed once.”

“’Cause your boyfriend is Iron Man,” Maria said softly.

“Yeah,” Pepper smiled slightly and leaned against the arm of an overstuffed reading chair. “That, and because he’s an idiot who told the bad guy where to find him.”

“He needs to watch more batman. Batman never tells anybody where the batcave is.”

“That would certainly save us a lot in construction fees,” Pepper mused. She took another deep breath, noting how Maria had lost her usual bold voice and brazen body language. “A lot of people know Tony is Iron Man and that our house was blown up.”

“He’s on the news a lot. His beard is kind of stupid.”

Pepper snorted. “But not a lot of people, in fact only five people – six including you now, know that I was here when that happened.” She had Maria’s full attention. From the depths of several massive pillows, dark brown eyes stared out from a pale face. Pepper sat down on the arm of the chair. “I was so scared, because Tony was here too, and the roof was coming down, and the ground was shaking. I thought we were going to die.”

“But you didn’t.”

“We didn’t,” she confirmed. “Tony made his Iron Man suit protect me, and then once I was outside, it went back to him and kept him safe. Later, when I came back here, I thought I would never be able to live here again. Tony rebuilt the house, because he can’t stand to just leave things alone, but I lived in New York with him for a long time because I didn’t even want to see this place. It reminded me of that feeling, that moment when I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“But you don’t think about that anymore?”

“Oh, no. I still think about that sometimes. And other things, scary things, that have happened since then. I wake up in the middle of the night, and sometimes I feel like the floor is moving, and that the house is being attacked again. And Tony thinks about it too. He calls me sometimes – or has Friday spy on me – when he wakes up with a bad dream and worries I might be hurt.”

“Iron Man has nightmares?” Maria looked skeptical. She pulled the blanket up closer to her neck, squirming down a little into the bed as she listened.

“Oh yeah. And it would be more worrying if he didn’t. Tony has seen a lot of scary things, he’s done a lot of scary things-”

“Like fly into space.”

“God,” Pepper whispered, closing her eyes. Here she was trying to comfort Maria and she could barely stand to think about the Battle of New York. “Yeah,” she breathed out shakily, “like fly into space. Or fight an evil robot, or save a floating city, or punch Thor, or-”

“He punched Thor?”

Pepper smiled and slid into the chair, picking up her tablet where she had left it and holding it in her lap; she used it to keep her hands still. “But do you know what the scariest thing is for Tony? And you can’t tell anyone because it would make him really sad and embarrassed. The scariest thing for him is doing the right thing. That was really important to his dad, and when he was a kid, his dad was killed because some bad people didn’t want him to do good. And so Tony worries about that all the time. Worries about bad people like the ones who killed his parents, worries how to stop them, worries how to find them and protect everyone else. He has trouble going to sleep sometimes, thinking about all of that.

“I don’t remember my mom or dad.” Maria’s voice was quiet, but no longer shaking. “I remember living with my sister – Kara. She always had a lot of juice boxes. But then she went to prison – I don’t really remember that, and I lived with our cousin for a while. Then there were some other people, and a big home with lots of kids, and then my first foster family.” They were both silent for a few moments. “My parents died in a car accident. That’s pretty bad, even if I don’t remember it. But I think it would be worse if I had known them. And if someone did it on purpose, instead of just being drunk...” There was a longer pause, and Pepper had to grind her teeth to not object. To not insist that having your parents killed by a drunk driver _was_ bad. It was awful and no one should ever have t _o_ deal with it. Certainly no child should think it was normal to shrug that off because – _it could have been worse_. “I don’t ever dream about them.”

Friday had dimmed the lights lower, but there was still enough to see Maria smoothing out the blanket. She looked small. Defenseless. Her sarcasm and adult vocabulary stripped away in the wake of her fears. “Do you dream about stuff? Scary stuff?”

“Sometimes. Like the house being blown up. Or Tony flying into space. Before Tony became Iron Man, I used to dream that I was late for a meeting, but I didn’t know I was supposed to be there, so I was still in my pajamas and I had all the wrong files for the meeting.”

“Why would you go to work in your pjs? Even if you were late?”

Pepper chuckled. “I have no idea, but it always seemed so real. I’d wake up sweating and my heart pounding. Once I dreamed that Tony had hidden all of my clothes and shoes – to be funny – and so I had to go to the meeting in one of his Iron Man suits. When I woke up I was still so mad I pinched him so he couldn’t sleep either.”

Maria giggled. It was the sweetest, most childlike sound Pepper had ever heard from the girl who worked so hard to be independent. To be brave and uncaring and invulnerable. Her chest was tight and her heart twisted in a pleasantly uncomfortable way. Pepper decided right in that moment that she would do everything in her power to hear it again.


	6. Which We Are About to Receive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this planned for a while to deal with Thor and Ragnorok - but seeing the trailer for Infinity War is going to take a while to digest. It may be some time before I can justify some of that - or perhaps I'll just decide to ignore it. Meanwhile, enjoy some Jane and Darcy banter.

**October 31, 2016**

 

“So, you have...an office?”

“Yep.”

“With a desk?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And...a plant, or something?”

“In the window, yeah.”

“There’s a window?”

“Two. One looks into where my assistant will sit. If I ever decide to hire one.”

Jane was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t the worried quiet that she got when Darcy had decided that going on a date with Tobacco Rob was a good idea. It wasn’t the quiet of heavy thinking about quantum mechanics. It wasn’t the sad quiet of Thor-is-gone-oh-my-heart-is-equally-broken-and-infuriated. It wasn’t the quiet that she got when she realized there was an empty plate in front of her and she wasn’t entirely sure what she had eaten. Darcy didn’t think she had heard this particular Jane-quiet before, and it was unsettling.

“Do you...is...do you feel good about this?”

“Jane.” Darcy pulled the car to the side of the single lane asphalt road and put it in park. Vision and Thor had flown on ahead of them, so Darcy took advantage of the one-on-one time with her best friend. She leaned across the console to take Jane’s hands. “I feel better about this than almost anything I’ve ever done. This is...I think this is what I am meant to do, Janey. Like you’re meant to bridge worlds and touch the stars.”

Jane nodded, then her unreadable expression became very readable. It read: I am a shit. “So you’re meant to bridge egos and touch superheros?”

Darcy snorted. “I wish. I got to meet Natasha Romanoff. Jane. Janey. Jane. Listen to me. Look me in the eye, because this is serious. She is hotter in person. The Christian Right better not ever find out, but I think her superpower is to turn straight women lesbian. But in a really powerful, self-actualized way? I wanted to lick her and simultaneously wrest power from the patriarchal hegemony. She was nice too.”

Jane squeezed her hands and smiled. “Does Sheryl know?”

“Are you kidding me!” Darcy turned back to the wheel and started driving again. “The last thing I need is my step mom fangirling all over an Avenger.” They crested a small hill, and their destination was visible just a mile away. “It’s good, Jane. Really good. I only wish you could stay in New York too, but as soon as the band gets back together I’m going to try and arrange my schedule to be out here part-time. If I can.” From the corner of her eye, Darcy could see Jane rolling her eyes.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Darcy. I’m glad for you though. And this is going to be good. Right? Right. I can be around people who can handle it if the Aether gets loose and Thor can do his thing. I think he was getting bored in New Mexico.” Neither of them mentioned that Thor had been more tense of late. His conversations with Heimdall had become more frequent and he had been increasingly thoughtful when he returned from them.

“So,” Jane began again as they pulled into the long private drive to a mid-century modern house, “A plant?”

“Yes. Although I think someone comes in to water it – because I definitely don’t and it hasn’t died yet. Now that I think about it, it might be fake. Yeah. Definitely fake. Huh. It looks really real.”

“It’s Stark Industries,” Jane said pointedly, “of course it looks real. And so does this.” She was staring out the windshield at a small house that was all blackened wood panels and vast stretches of glass. “This doesn’t look new?”

Darcy snorted and opened her door. Jane followed her around to the trunk. “You sound almost disappointed. No, I get it,” she held up a hand to stop Jane’s protest. “You kind of expect it from Tony. But this was something his dad had built. I sort of gathered that Howard had a fling right after he married Maria and this was supposed to be a – what’da’ya call it? Like...”

“A love nest?”

“Ew. Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m...not sure I feel comfortable staying in Tony’s dad’s mistress’ house.”

“She never lived here. Vision says it wasn’t even totally finished – no fixtures or carpet or anything. I guess maybe Maria found out and ho boy – I don’t imagine that went well.”

“No kidding.”

Darcy handed Jane a bag and took one for herself, leaving most of the heavy things for people who had divine and/or artificially created muscles. The curved front walk was lined with smooth stones and native plants, leading to a wide glass door that pivoted on a steel rod. It was all very Jetsons meets Swiss Family Robinson. The entryway was paved in slate, and had several pale wood steps that led up to a dining area and more hardwood. A door to the right led to an office. “Yeah, so I guess Vision has been getting into architecture? And when he found out Tony had this place he started researching mid-century modernism and its post-modern reboot and Tony let him go nuts. That was before he asked us to move east. And so he added some extras, like equipment and...” Darcy trailed off nervously. She knew that Jane hadn’t been exactly overjoyed about leaving New Mexico. Despite rather prompt delivery of an RV by SI so that Jane and Thor could shower, Darcy also worried her friend was still a little irritated by the whole bathroom demolition debacle. Jane didn’t do so well with change. She ate the same two flavors of cereal and two kinds of poptarts. She had shirts older than some high schoolers, and she never edited research papers without her lucky socks. Moving to the upstate New York Avengers facility was a huge, huge change. But if Jane said no...well, Darcy wasn’t sure what she would do – but she wouldn’t turn her back on Jane.

“Is that an observatory?” Jane sounded like she had tried to eat a cotton ball. Dry and a little suffocated. With a shaking hand she pointed out the garden level windows on the side of the house.

Darcy bit her lip. “Yeah? I know it probably doesn’t have great um, magnification, or whatever. It’s super old. I guess Howie’s girlfriend was with NASA, or something? But Tony said he would order all new equipment and hook you up with remote time at SPT and he said the Hubble people owe him a favor so- _Fuck_. Jane, are you crying?!” Darcy was legitimately freaking out. Jane never cried. Her boyfriend had disappeared for two years – come back – and _didn’t call_ and the woman had never even gotten misty eyed. Pissed as hell, yes. Drunk, more than once. Teary, no.

“Darcy!” Jane was practically wailing. Her bag fell on the floor and she tackled Darcy in a bone crushing hug.

“Janey,” Darcy gasped out, patting her back fervently, “you have really been eating your Wheaties. I can’t breathe!”

Thor came in then, followed closely by Vision. Once Thor sorted out that Jane was overwhelmed with happiness he joined in the hug. Not followed by Vision. Darcy managed to put off the tour of the little observatory until they had walked through the rest of the house. Thor declared the oversized refrigerator ‘most marvelous’ and the little wood burning stove ‘tiny but efficient’. Jane had made several pointed comments about the size of the shower in the Master Bathroom, which Darcy graciously ignored. Vision seemed reservedly pleased regarding their praise.

Tour complete and the luggage brought in from the car, Vision took Jane to see the current telescope and Thor joined Darcy on the rear deck. It looked out over a large private lake. Far in the distance, through huge old trees, she could make out an old farmhouse. It was the only other structure along the shore.

“Darcy, I must thank you again for your thoughtfulness and dedication to Jane. In you she has found a most true and stalwart friend. And I could not have hoped for a better Shield Maiden for my lady.”

“Ah, man. You’re pretty awesome too, Thor. And don’t think I’m not your friend also. I mean yeah, the house is pretty much for Jane – observatories don’t grow on trees, you know? But check out this beach, huh? Plenty of room for a bifrost site.”

“Yes, indeed. You have been most considerate of our needs. As you have since I first met you on this world as a stranger.” He drew himself up to his full height and his earnest gaze became serious. Darcy felt a little tremor of anxiety. “Although I understand you are unable to continue to reside with Jane?”

Guilt, which she had been trying to stave off for weeks, returned with a vengeance. “Well, I’m hoping to be able to make this place part-time. Like long weekends and stuff. But Tony is setting me up with an apartment in the City. And I will need to stay there, at least until we get a better handle on this Accords situation.”

“Yes, of course. It is good that Tony and Steve will have you to guide them through the coming days. Governance and the machinations that often follow in its shadow must be undertaken by one who is not only strong of heart, but wise and clever as well. Although I was schooled in these lessons for many, many years, I feel you have learned them far better.”

“That’s...” Darcy had to swallow and look away. Her eyes were stinging. Probably from the glare off the lake. Thor was always sincere, but to have a thousand-year old god call you smart was kinda overwhelming. “Thank you.”

“You have grown much since we first met, and always I am pleased to see that you hold fast to those things which are important to you, even as circumstances change. I have tried to do this as well, but...as you know, I have failed often.”

“Thor, hey. Yeah, there were things. You could have done better, but most of it wasn’t your fault. Jane gets it. I get it. You love her and have been great since the bifrost was repaired – you were here when she really needed you. That counts for a lot. For everything, really.” She patted his shoulder awkwardly. Awkward only because she had to stretch her arm to its full extension to do so.

“I fear that my devotion to Jane will be tested again. I do not wish to be parted from her, but there are great threats growing among the stars, and it is my duty to meet those threats and overcome them.”

“Are you...” Darcy bit her lip and glanced at the observatory where Jane was no doubt engrossed in optics and computer modeling and other sciencey things. “Have you talked to Jane about this? I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to-”

“Jane and I have had many long conversations regarding this matter. Heimdall and I have spoken at length, as you know, and I have waited as long as I can, but I do not believe the situation can be left alone indefinitely. I must to return to Asgard, and most likely will be gone for a prolonged period while I investigate these matters.”

“When?”

“Soon. I do not yet have a fixed day, but soon. Perhaps after your Winter Feast. I did not want to commit to planning action until I was certain Jane would be settled here in my absence.”

“That’s...between you and Janey, muscles. But,” Darcy swallowed again and forced a bright smile. “But try to be careful out there, okay? Don’t let space keep you away too long?”

“I will not let space keep me from Jane, nor my commitments to Midgard, Darcy.” He smiled too, that wide, bright Thor-smile that said the world was a wonderful place full of delights and worth protecting. She sat down on a bench, and he began building a fire in the pit at the center of the deck. The flames soon beat back the chill of the late afternoon and Thor sprawled out to enjoy the heat and the last of the fall foliage.

“I would ask a boon of you, Darcy,” he finally spoke up.

“Anything you need, Thor. You know it.”

“Would you watch over my Jane, while I am parted from her? It is as you have always done, but I would feel better for having heard your oath.”

Darcy looked into his blue eyes, his serious face behind the blonde beard. For all that he was a great pancake flipper and hilarious drinking buddy, Thor was a prince and a god. She couldn’t brush his request off lightly. Searching her brain for anything she had read on the Norse mythology and Thor’s own weird Shakespearean speech, she replied, “I swear it, Thor. Son of Odin and Frigga. Crown Prince of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms. I will defend Doctor Jane Foster from harm.” She paused, and then smiled. “And also scurvy. I promise to make sure she eats a fruit or vegetable every once in a while.”

Thor laughed loud and long as the sunset turned the lake to gold.


End file.
